Wolf at the Door (Wolf Winter Book 3) by TA Moore

Author:TA Moore [Moore, TA]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 9781644057186
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2020-10-26T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen—Gregor

“THERE WAS a time when I would have asked for this on prescription,” Nick said dryly as he tilted his head back for Gregor. His mouth twisted into a wry grin that didn’t hide the nerves underneath. “Even with the itch.”

Nick was perched on the side of an overturned kayak, the man-made fiberglass hull crazed and cracked from the cold, in the boathouse on the edge of the water. The wind outside whistled through the tarred cracks in the hut, thin streams of snowflakes scattered over the floor, and irregularly timed waves came up the gravel shore to batter at the door. His eyes were blistered and scabbed along the lashes, red where it should have been white, and lightly clouded like mist on a window.

Gregor took Nick’s chin in his hand and tilted his head to the side. He felt Nick’s affronted grumble against his palm at being manhandled. The inside of Nick’s ears was irritated as well, wet and red, as though the skin had been scalded. Gregor leaned in for a sniff and caught the bitter scent of the prophets’ drink under the sweaty musk of whoever had owned the coat.

“Gross,” Nick protested as he shoved Gregor away from his ear. He stuck his finger in to scratch at the inflamed skin. “Did you see anything? Is there anything in there?”

“Not now,” Gregor said. He grabbed Nick’s wrist and pulled his hand down. “Don’t scratch it.”

Nick sighed. “Easier advice to give than take,” he said as he wiped his hands on his jeans and then hugged himself. He tucked his fingers under his armpits and hunched his shoulders up toward his chin. Despite his pink rabbit eyes and restless knees, he still looked like a bird, just an ill one. “Do you… how long do you think it will last?”

“Does it matter?” Gregor asked.

Nick huffed out a laugh and then sniffed. “I’m not exactly much use like this,” he pointed out. “Human again.”

“You were never human,” Gregor corrected him.

Not that it mattered. Human, bird, or whatever slice of wolf his gran had made of Nick, Gregor loved him. He liked Nick’s restless hands and dry humor, his beaky, stern face, and the ridiculous way it creased around his sudden, delighted smiles. He liked Nick, the ability to turn into a giant bird or work out how someone died from their liver wasn’t anything to do with that.

“Human-ish,” Nick said. “Human-adjacent. I’m useless.”

Words worked better for Jack. He knew how to put things to make people follow him, cheer for him, fight for him. To make them love him. That had never come easily to Gregor. Most of the time, he didn’t care—except for the expected irritation that his brother existed to be good at anything—but Nick made him wish for a clever tongue.

“Fuck that,” Gregor said.

He cupped Nick’s face in his hands and leaned in to kiss him. The faint sourness that stuck to his skin—humans, sickness, and fear—faded as the familiar popcorn scent that was Nick thickened and sweetened.

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